Dark Knight
by Eirien-herves vuin
Summary: AU for Dracula 2000. A young woman flees from a dangerous past. Dracula is a reformed and forgiven man forging a new life as a partner in a highclass London restaurant. Can he save the woman he loves from a dangerous stalker?-dedicated to htr17
1. Chapter 1

_***I am proud to dedicate this fanfic to the one who has encouraged me the most. Here's to you htr17! Your words of wisdom and unfailing good humor have gotten me through a low point in my life, so...this one's for you!!**_

_**I hope I made you proud...  
**_

_**Dark Knight**_

**Prologue**

_She struggled toward consciousness. What happened? One moment she was unlocking the door to her flat, the next awakening with a thundering headache throbbing behind her eyes. Slowly she tried to open her eyelids. The light stabbed into her skull causing her to hiss out a curse._

"_So, you are awake at last my darling."_

_Oh dear god, that voice. She thought she had left it behind when she entered the Witness Protection Program eighteen months ago. _

"_V-V-Victor? Oh, god no…" she whispered._

_He leaned in close, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Oh, yes my dearest wife. It is your faithful husband, the one you betrayed. I've come to repay my debt to you. Come now, be a good girl and open your eyes. I know how much you wished to be reunited with your lover and friends."_

_She opened her eyes and saw…and couldn't stop screaming._

**Chapter one**

Damien Iscariot woke from the dream with a start, sitting bolt upright on the king-sized bed. He ran shaking hands over his face and let out an unsteady laugh. Breathing heavily, he reached for the carafe of water that was always placed beside his bed. As half owner of the hottest restaurant in London,_** Meena's**_, part of the amenities included a penthouse suite with full time housekeeper and staff. They always had everything in order and disappeared when he needed them to; all in all, perfect for everyone. Lately however, Damien had sensed restlessness within himself, a longing for something more….more than the wealth, more than the status, more like what Mary and Simon had. _Whoa, old man. Where had _that _come from?_ He thought. Must be a left over uneasiness from the dream.

He'd had it almost every night for the last eighteen months. He sat up in bed and thought about it analytically. The dream would begin the same. He would feel as though he were just regaining consciousness, not sure how he got to be where he was, his head splitting with pain. Then the voice….a voice he knew….and_ feared._ _He_, who feared no man.

Then he whispered a name, "Victor". Somehow it was connected to the voice, the one that instilled such fear and loathing. After that came a blinding light and screams, then he would wake in a cold sweat. He rose with fluid grace and strode into the master bath intent on washing away the last remnants of the nightmare. Bracing powerful hands on the marble countertops he stared into the mirror above the sink.

_I cannot get used to seeing my reflection gazing back at me. Dear Lord, who am I that I deserve your mercy and forgiveness? _He bowed his head in silent thanksgiving.

* * *

Mary came up to him as soon as she saw him enter the dining room that night. She was radiant in a deep russet pant suit which showed the tawny highlights of her hair to perfection.

"Hello, sweetheart. You look positively delicious! Where is that unfortunate husband of yours? I may sweep you off tonight." Damien teased her as he smoothly spun her in a circle.

"He's right behind you, where did you put my wooden stake luv?" Simon clapped Damien on the back.

"Oh, stop you two! Nicholas is coming tonight. He wants to talk to us, he says it's important. I think that he is bringing a guest so you both need to be on your best behavior!"

"Yes, my dear" Simon rolled his eyes at Damien.

"Of course Mary" They both looked like penitent little boys.

She ruefully shook her head. "Just try, for my sake?"

They followed her into the crowd greeting familiar faces and hobnobbing with the hub of British society. After the niceties were out of the way, Simon led his wife and partner to their designated table at the rear of the restaurant.

"Mary, you need to sit down. I won't have you tiring yourself out." he stated motioning for the waiter. He asked for mineral water and beer, and then cocked an eyebrow at Damien.

"Ernesto knows what I require. No, Simon, do not look upon me like that. I no longer have the compulsion to hunt humans nor the taste for their blood, He," here he looked heavenward, "has granted me mercy and forgiveness at long last. However, I find I still enjoy the taste of life's essence and can obtain it legally from the slaughterhouse. I indulge only upon occasion for celebrations, and if I am not mistaken….you are about to give me a reason, no?" Damien winked at a now blushing Mary.

"How did you…..never mind, I don't want to know" Simon grinned then. "Mary is pregnant! We just found out for sure today and wanted you to be the first to know."

Damien wrapped Mary in a gentle hug. "How wonderful my sweet, if you ever tire of this irksome boy you know where I live."

"Excuse me, still sitting here."

"Ah, yes. The lucky father-to-be. A hearty congratulations!" They shook hands vigorously.

It was Simon who spotted FBI agent Nicholas Gage and a petite, fragile looking blond haired, green eyed woman threading their way through the throng of people in the lobby of _**Meena's.**_ He waved to the waiter and asked him to direct their guests to the table. When they arrived introductions were made.

"Simon, Mary, Damien, this is Sara Wheeling. She needs your help, and I hope I may explain matters to you more fully later, in a...less crowded environment? Sara, these are very close friends of mine. You will be _safe_ with them, I promise this." Damien noticed that Nicholas' voice was very gentle as he talked to Sara, who looked about ready to bolt at any second. She had the look of a wild mare that was spooked and needed to be calmed and caressed.

_She is more than spooked, she is frightened. What happened to her to put such fear in those extraordinary eyes?_ He wondered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Damien found that he wasn't the only one who noticed Sara's growing discomfort as the evening progressed. Mary did her best to put the young woman at her ease, but the growing crowd in the popular restaurant had an adverse effect on the pale girl. Nicholas gave them only the barest of facts, preferring to wait until they were alone to share the rest of the story. Damien knew only that Sara was involved in the Witness Protection Program and needed a safe haven to live as well as a gainful means of employment. Watching her now, he surmised that whoever she needed protection from was one nasty son-of-a-bitch. Suddenly he wanted to get the whole story.

"Miss Wheeling, would you be more comfortable moving this discussion upstairs? I have a spacious and quiet flat, with more that enough room for everyone." He gazed at her with quiet understanding eyes.

She looked at him, clearly startled. "I….well…yes, actually. I would like that, thank you." Her voice was husky, as if she didn't use it often.

He glanced around at the others, "Shall we then?"

As soon as everyone had made themselves comfortable, Nicholas glanced at Sara as if for permission before beginning. She gave him a barely discernible nod and he began,

"Sara came to our attention 18 months ago when she left her husband, Victor Soriano, you may know him as 'The Butcher'." The other three exchanged startled glances.

"I remember hearing about him." exclaimed Simon. "He and his family are well known drug runners, arms dealers, you name it, and they've got their hands in it. God help you if you crossed a Soriano, they just sent Vic after you, and all your kin would find were assorted body parts."

"Yes, well, Sara was only 17 when Vic swept her off her feet and married her, he can be a charming bastard when he puts his mind to it" Nicholas continued, "he then proceeded to make her life a living hell. She came to us with airtight evidence against him in return for protection from the family. We took him into custody; he was tried, convicted, sentenced and set free all due to a technicality. Now, he's after her, and this is the safest place I can think of. He's got people in every corner, from cops to politicians. I can't trust _anyone_. She needs time to heal and to think without the fear that he will pop out of nowhere and drag her back into her nightmare."

Damien turned to Sara and willed her to look into his eyes. "There is a space here that can be transformed into a comfortable flat; however, it will take time. In the meantime, Miss Wheeling, you are more than welcome to be my guest. I can assure you, you are quite safe here, and he will not harm you while you are under my protection."

Mary gently took Sara's hand. "You can trust us, Sara. We will protect you. Damien is the best chance you have. He will _not_ let that bastard near you."

In bed that night Sara lie awake listening to the stillness of unfamiliar surroundings. The bed was a sumptuous affair with soft cotton sheets and down comforter, like sleeping on a cloud. It felt so good to her bruised soul and abused body. Lord, was she exhausted. Bone weary, soul deep…so tired of running. He seemed supernatural the way he always showed up, no matter how far she ran. He always came for her. And the punishments, oh god, the punishments for running. She didn't know how she lived through the last one. This time, though, she really did it. She went to the cops. To be precise, the FBI. She was a snitch. If he caught her this time, she wouldn't survive, and it wouldn't be quick. She'd seen what he did to the other one. He'd made sure of that. He'd made her watch….the whole time. It had taken hours. Nicholas had brought her here, saying it was the only place she would be safe. Safe? What is safety?

_Who can I trust? Nicholas? Mr. Iscariot? Myself?_ She had absolutely no idea anymore. Slowly she fell into a fitful sleep.

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_The bakery smelled so good in the morning, like vanilla, cinnamon and warm yeast. Kneading the dough, she lost herself in thought as she listened to the classical music piping through the sound system. Vaguely, she heard the owner greet an early customer out front, then a strange, sharp cracking noise. Startled she looked up only to see a familiar figure loom in the doorway._

"_Hello, my darling."_

"_Oh, god, no…"_

"_I have missed you my beloved wife."_

_He forced her out to the front of the bakery where her employer, and by now best friend was keening on the floor beside the fallen body of her husband._

"_Now you will see what I do to those who you care for, my love…" he nodded to one of his henchmen, who reached down to the distraught woman and dragged her up._

"_No!!! Please…Vic…I'll do anything…don't hurt anyone else, please…" she should have known, begging had never helped before. _

_His eyes were dead and he was smiling as the torture began…_

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Damien heard a choked cry coming from his guest's room. He knocked on the door to ask if everything was alright when a scream rent the night. He burst through the door and found Sara sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes wide-opened but unseeing lost in some internal nightmare. She let out another bone-chilling cry that cut straight through his heart. He gathered her close and rocked her, murmuring reassurances into her hair until he felt her gradually warm and come back from wherever she had been. She raised her head and gazed into his eyes, then promptly burst into tears, holding onto him as though he were a lifeline.

Damien, formerly known as Dracula, held on right back.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Bright sunlight woke Sara, the warmth seeping into her bones as she lay snuggled in the soft cozy bed. Sleepily she glanced at the bedside clock and was startled to see that it was well past noon. Never had she slept so late, or so peacefully. Only one nightmare….and….had her host come in to comfort her? No, that couldn't be. He seemed kind, but then so had her ex-husband and….NO! She wouldn't think about _him, _couldn't think about _him. _She'd learned her lesson about trusting in others blindly, especially men. No, she'd keep her distance thank you very much, and take care of herself. She had no choice but to stay here for the time being, Nicholas was right; it _was_ the safest place to be right now. But as soon as she could, she would leave, and find a spot where _he_ wouldn't find her.

Damien had spent a restless night. He had stayed with Sara, holding her while she cried, providing a strong male presence for her to lean on until the last of the poison was shed from her soul. He gently laid her down making sure she was warmly covered, and then he stretched out beside her on the bed. Softly he stroked her hair back from her temple in a relaxing rhythm that immediately had her eyes drooping closed.

"Go to sleep, nothing can harm you with me here" he whispered to her soothingly.

He remained with her until he was assured she slept soundly and peacefully. When he exited her room he left her door open a crack and also his own so he could hear her should she cry out again in the night. It was debatable as to the wisdom of this idea as he was awakened several times during the night by either soft sounds coming from her room across the hall or dreams of her which grew increasingly more erotic as the night wore on.

_This cannot be old chap. Get yourself together man, she needs help, not your lustful thoughts. _

He set about to make breakfast as soon as he heard the shower in Sara's room go on. When she came out of her room and into the kitchen he was setting two plates heaping with delicious food on the table with mugs of coffee on the side.

"I…didn't expect this. Thank you."

Again he was struck by the huskiness of her voice. It had a quality that was pleasing to the ear, low and sexy. She spoke, however, in halting sentences, as if choosing her words only after careful deliberation. He imagined living with Vic Soriano had been a nightmare from start to finish. Had she been frightened to speak freely with him? His jaw tensed as he pondered what her life had been like under the Soriano name. He didn't realize that she was looking at him askance until she questioned him timidly if something was the matter.

"What? No, no it is nothing that should concern you my dear, I give you my word." He spoke as reassuringly as possible after seeing the alarm on her face.

_My god, I will kill that man for causing such a look on this woman's lovely face. _He could think of many incredibly satisfying ways this could be accomplished in which the most amount of pain could be induced in his victim.

He watched carefully noting how much she ate and encouraging her to eat more, lord but was she thin. She seemed to be skin stretched taut over bones, lovely though they were, she needed more. Dark circles gave testament to many sleepless nights, most likely plagued with dreams of violence. He knew what those were like, had he not been both victim to and perpetrator of those type of dreams? Suddenly he felt very unsure of himself in the role of "savior" to this angel. Who was he; the one many called the devil incarnate, to be the savior of anyone?

"If you have finished we can go and visit with Mary. She is down in the restaurant taking care of the lunch crowd." His tone was a might brusque.

"Oh…of…of course. Will it be crowded do you think?" she was uncertain why he seemed distant all of the sudden.

"No," his tone softened. "Not as crowded as it is in the evening. The luncheon crowd is smaller, although they spend as much of their money on our excellent cuisine." There was a twinkle in his eye that invited a small smile.

"I wanted to ask you what I can do to earn my keep. I don't expect to live here for nothing. I'll do anything that needs to be done." The earnestness in her expression would've made him laugh if he didn't find it so heartbreaking.

"Please, you are my guest for the time being. Rest now, get your strength back. Then we will discuss what work would be a good fit for you while you are here." His tone was gentle and resolute. "Now come and we will talk with Mary. I have a feeling you two will be best of friends in no time."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

On this point Damien proved himself true. It took the two girls all of five minutes before they were chattering away as though they had known one another their whole lives. Within a half an hour the topics ranged from relationships to love to marriage to babies. When they hit this one, Damien hurriedly excused himself and all but ran from the room.

"Coward!" laughed Mary after him, and even Sara gave a half smile.

"You certainly know how to clear a room." She remarked to Mary.

"Yes, well there are some things women feel comfortable talking with only with other women. How are you feeling this morning? Did you have a rough night?" she enquired.

"I had a nightmare, nothing new. I have them often." Sara gave a weary sigh. "I don't like to talk about it. People who have tried to help me end up getting hurt or…." Her head hung low over hunched shoulders.

"Sara, I know you don't know us very well, but…you have to trust someone." Mary's voice was soft and sincere. "Damien is a _good_ man, the best. I don't say that lightly. He nearly died to save my life." Sara's head jerked up to meet Mary's eyes. "Yes, I'll tell you the story sometime, suffice it to say, I would trust him with my life, and that of my child" she rubbed her abdomen lightly.

"I used to believe in the knight on the white horse, Mary. The one who rode in and saved the princess from the evil dragon. I just don't know if I have that in me anymore." Sara's voice was infinitely sad.

"I know honey, the problem with knights is that occasionally we mistake the supposed 'white' ones for the good guys, and then we get mixed up. You'll find yours, I promise." Mary gave her a gentle hug.

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Vic Soriano was in a sour mood. He stared at his number one man. The muscle in his lower jaw ticked. "What do you mean you lost them?" his tone was reasonable, even, and soft. This did not bode well.

"Boss, Nicholas Castaliano gots to her before we did and he took her somewheres. I gots guys in the PD lookin for her with an APB out an everythin. We'll find her ok?" Jasper tried not to envision what would happen to him should he fail to perform this one task for his exacting employer.

Vic gave Jasper a reptilian grin "Make sure you do. If you fail to, I will make you an example to the rest of my employees…." And he proceeded to list all the ways he would accomplish this task until his erstwhile employee was literally sweating with fear.

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When Simon and Damien joined the girls they found two sleeping angels instead. Mary had fallen asleep stretched out on her sofa, feet propped up on pillows, eyelashes shadowing cheekbones, and Sara curled up in a big overstuffed chair, with feet tucked under her and hands folded under one cheek. The men stood in silent awe for several moments before turning to look at one another.

"Wow." Simon said.

"Yes." Damien replied. "I think I see what you mean."

"You're beginning to feel something, aren't you?"

"I…..I don't know. What does it feel like?" Damien asked.

"Come on old chap, let's go to the kitchen and have a drink and a chat. It's been awhile for you, time for a refresher course on the intricacies of love….."


	5. Word from the Author

Authors Note: Dark Knight is coming out of hiatus. I apologize to any who were patiently (or not so patiently :s ) awaiting updates this past year or so. Illness and hospital stays have prevented me from completing a few of my stories, but I will be working on them in my spare time. Look for more soon. Mrsphan

updated 2/25/09


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

He found the young prostitute on the corner of East 58th and South Woodlawn Ave. near the University. Some fresh-faced young thing who ran away from home hoping to make it big in show biz only to end up walking the streets of the city selling her body to any pervert who'll have her. Vic rubbed his hands together in anticipation. _Soon, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about who the next john will be. Uncle Vic is gonna take real good care of you. _He eyed her generous proportions with an appreciative grin, what was she eighteen? Maybe, probably younger. Mmmmmm…tonight he would pretend she was his bitch of a wife and have some _real_ fun. He pulled his Lamborghini up to her corner and rolled down the window, flashing her a brilliant smile. She blinked at the drop dead gorgeous stranger before her in the incredibly mag car.

"Hey, beautiful." His voice caressed her, sending shivers up and down her spine. "Want to take a ride with me?"

She smiled, and before she could stop herself, she said "Sure, mister, anywhere with you" in a breathless tone. They were the last words she ever spoke again.

Her meticulously mutilated body was found in a dumpster three days later.

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Over the course of the next several weeks Sara found herself enlisted to help Simon and Mary shop for and decorate their unborn infant's room. Mary was beginning to show at 4 months and wanted everything to be perfect.

"Trust me; this will be good for her, even if it's a bit premature." She told her skeptical husband. "It's bound to take her mind off things and give her something to look forward to. What woman can resist buying baby clothes?"

"Am I required to answer that, because I don't…" he gave her a befuddled stare and she laughed.

"No, silly! It's a rhetorical question; _all_ women like to shop for baby things! Or at least all the one's I've talked to."

He smiled into her upturned face, shining with love and happiness. This was how Damien saw them when he came into the restaurant, and his heart constricted suddenly in his chest. _Oh, would that Sara looked upon my countenance that way. Such love, such joy in being together. _"You two light up the night just by being in the same room. I wonder then why our electricity bill is so high?" his tone was one of amused tolerance.

"Oh, hush. I was just telling Simon about taking Sara out for some more retail therapy tomorrow. I found a darling crib set at Macy's downtown…"

"And she's off." Simon said softly into Damien's ear as his wife prattled on…and on…and on. Damien smiled softly and interspersed "really?" and "mmhmm" and "wow" into the conversation as needed, all the while waiting with baited breath for the one reason he came down to eat in the restaurant tonight in the first place.

It was her second night as hostess and she was still so nervous. She knew she needn't be, just ask for a name, take reservations, and hand them over to the serving staff. It was just that she hated being on "display". Not that the dress was indecent in any way, just that she felt like a child playing dress-up in her mother's clothes. She didn't fit in here; hell, face it, she didn't fit in anywhere. Isn't that what _he'd_ said so many times? She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm racing nerves.

_Its okay, I'm okay. He does not know where I am. I don't have to think about him. I have friends who maybe care a little about me. I know I care about them…especially him…dammit stop Sara, you can't do this, you should just run now, run far away before they end up like…_here her stomach finally rebelled and she ran into the bathroom to vomit.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Damien was finally rewarded by the sight of his lady as she came on duty at the front desk. He frowned as he took in the pallor of her face and the tremor in her hands. He knew that she had been in a good mood after her outing with Mary that afternoon, clearly something had happened between then and now. He turned to Mary and asked to be excused.

"Is something wrong, Damien?" Mary clutched his arm as he tried to leave.

"No, no…at least…I need to speak to someone. If there is a problem, I will let you know alright?" he spoke in soothing tones to put her at ease and she let him go.

He made his way through the crowded restaurant, speaking to acquaintances briefly while not losing sight of his quarry. She was looking definitely pale and shaky. He pulled her aside discreetly and asked if there were a problem.

"No…no. May I ask why? Am I doing anything wrong sir?" He looked at her with surprise as she began to shake with earnest.

"Miss Wheeling…Sara, sweetheart, no. You've done nothing wrong, love. I noticed you looking so ill at ease, and…come, we must speak." He led her away, asking another young woman if she could take over Sara's duties for the evening. After going up to Damien's flat; he led her to the couch where he sat beside her and held her hand in both of his.

"Sara, what happened tonight? You are shaking and pale. Please trust me, I will _not ever _harm you, you must know this…" his voice fairly trembled with the need to make her believe.

She lifted quaking fingers to his lips to silence him and stilled when she felt the softness of his mouth. She moaned involuntarily as he pressed a light kiss upon her fingertips. "Please, I know in my heart you will not hurt me…it's my head that won't co-operate…"

"Let me help you…" his eyes bore into hers, the electricity arching between them was almost a tangible thing. "I can help you with this, my love…"

She was almost hypnotized by the timbre of his voice as she gravitated toward him, lips parted and eyes fluttering closed. Their mouths met in a sensual and passionate embrace that was as soothing as it was erotic. He made love to her mouth, treating it as an extension of her body and not as merely a means to an end. He spent endless moments nipping, nibbling, sipping and delving deep until she could do nothing but groan in surrender and collapse into his arms. He held her as though she were the greatest of treasures and he wanted nothing more than to adore her forever.

They had no idea how much time had passed when she placed her hands on his muscular chest and lifted her mouth from his for a much needed breath.

"Ummm…uh, wow." She was breathless with desire as he continued to run caressing fingers through her hair and along her jaw line. The look in his eyes was both tender and fierce and the combination should've scared the shit out of her, but there was something about _this_ man. She found herself trusting again, wholeheartedly. "Oh my god, I could so fall in love with you…" she suddenly flushed a becoming shade of pink as she saw his eyes suddenly fixate on hers. "Please tell me I did not just say that out loud."

His grin was at once boyish and sensual. "No such luck, my sweet one." Here his face grew serious. "You speak your heart, that is a gift, not something to be feared. Never hide this from me. You need never be afraid of me, please believe this." He dipped his head to kiss her again, moving his mouth with expert ease over hers in a dance of seduction. _Oh my god, he issooo good at this…_she thought as she relaxed into his hold. His heart felt as though it would jump out of his chest, it was a strange and addictive feeling. _Love…so this is what it feels like. Thank you, my Lord for this gift of such a woman._


	8. Chapter 7

***A huge thank you to all who read and review! You guys are the BEST!!! Without you this wouldn't be so much fun!!! **THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

Chapter 7

A thoroughly enjoyable hour later, Damien escorted a relaxed and happy Sara back downstairs. _Happy, I'm feeling happy! Oh my god…I haven't felt this good since…I can't even remember when. Can this man be real? He's too perfect, what if he turns out to be like…no way, Sara Beth! Use your gut instinct! You know he's the real thing…but there is something about him that is different, a wildness is in him that is almost predatory… I should be scared out of my wits, but…part of me is weak with excitement. I yearn for him in ways I don't fully understand, it's as if he is a missing part of me that's been ripped away and the wound still seeps. _ Surreptitiously, she watched him for the rest of the evening as they sat talking with Simon and Mary.

Damien wondered what she was thinking as she sat so quietly at the table. She had seemed fine when they joined the other couple for a late dinner in the dining room, but as the meal progressed the conversation flowed around her as she took more of an observer's role. He turned to her and, placing a hand over hers, asked quietly if she was well. She afforded him a dazzling smile that had him momentarily stunned.

"I'm quite well, Damien, thank you. I am simply enjoying your company. It's been so long since I've allowed myself the luxury of good friends and fellowship." Her calm voice had Mary cocking an eyebrow at Damien. _What caused this transformation…_her gaze demanded. He answered with a bland stare. She smiled suddenly and nodded.

_Damn…how does she do that? _ He wondered.

Mary took Sara's hand in hers. "We enjoy your company too. I know Damien is a changed man…" Her laughing brown eyes met his at this. "He needs someone to look after him in that lonely penthouse suite. And you should have seen some of the women he's dated in the past…real _vampires _they were, suck your, er…bank account...dry; slam, bam, thank you ma'am." She returned his bland stare as he sputtered over his coffee at her last remark.

Sara looked from one to the other, clearly there was an inside joke to this. "I don't care how much he has. I lo…like Damien for who he is. He is all that is honorable, and good and…and decent. I don't believe for a moment he would do anything that would be considered shameful, no matter what you're implying."

Damien had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable, but shot Mary a cocky grin nonetheless. She burst out laughing and conceded, saying "You are quite right Sara, he is all that is honorable. Who among us has a perfect past with no regrets, no mistakes? No one I know of, that's for sure."

* * *

It was past eleven by the time Damien and Sara retired for the night. He noticed her diminishing energy and insisted on taking her back to the apartment. In the private VIP elevator, he backed her into the corner and, unable to withstand one more moment without the taste of her, set his lips on hers in a scorching kiss. She rose on tiptoe to afford him a better angle and he groaned his pleasure, wrapping his arms more tightly around her and pulling her body flush against his. Reeling from the sensual onslaught, she felt her center grow moist with desire as she surrendered to his passion. With expert ease he slid his jean clad thigh between hers to rest against her. She nearly cried out at the shock of pleasure that shot through her system when he gently began to rock her, the roughness of his jeans a tangible anchor holding her to him as he drew her toward oblivion. Driven to watch her fall apart in his arms, Damien continued his gentle assault on her senses. Holding her tightly, moving her against him…listening to her cries as they shuddered into moans…feeling the increasing passion in her kisses, _oh Lord…I love this woman. _

Sara knew something was coming, something big. _Oh…my…god… _She never, never, never wanted this to stop! Nothing had ever felt so good. With Vic it had been an exercise in pain and humiliation. With Damien it was…_oh, yes…there, right there…_ She moaned her approval as he changed the speed and angle of his strokes. Then she opened her eyes in shocked dismay when he lifted her off and pulled down her skirt.

"Wha…? Did I do something wrong?" her eyes had the familiar haunted look again.

"No…my love…no. We have arrived. Come, we will finish what we started." His words were a vow, a promise of beautiful things to come.

She was unaccountably nervous as she awaited him in his bedroom, dressed in her sleep shirt and panties. He was on the phone in the living room taking care of urgent business that had come up between their departure from the dining room and subsequent arrival in his flat. She lay on the soft pillows and forced herself to relax into the wonderfully soft mattress. She should ask him what kind he used, she thought sleepily…they were so comfortable, she may want to buy a couple for herself. Her eyelids grew heavy and she closed them…_just for a few minutes…_ Before five minutes were up, she was fast asleep. Damien came into the room, opening his mouth to speak and noticed her angelic face, soft and carefree in sleep. His expression was loving and tender as he pushed a lock of her bangs off of her forehead and leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips.

"Sweet Dreams, dear one. I will be here to hold you all night long. You are mine, my love…as I am yours. I will be patient with you, and will love you as you grow to trust me."

Later, after doing a search for Victor over the internet, he succumbed to weariness and crawled into bed beside Sara. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and breathed deeply of her scent.

His mate.

It was a heady thought, the creature he once was after all was closely related in superstitious. bigoted minds to the wolf…yet man routinely abused the sacred vows while wolves mate for life. He certainly planned a lifelong commitment. This timid, shy creature brought out all of his protective nature. Closing his eyes, he basked in the silken smoothness of her skin and allowed himself to slip into sleep.

* * *

The bright sunlight woke Sara from untroubled sleep. She stirred, and blinked sleepily adjusting her eyes to the sudden onslaught of luminosity. As awareness seeped into her consciousness she began to notice the details of her surroundings. The room was painted a deep soothing blue with white accent on the crown moldings and trim. The bed clothes and draperies were done in beige, navy and maroon stripes. The floor was hardwood with area rugs artfully strewn around; all with pleasingly geometric patterns in the same accent colors as the bedding. All in all it was a tasteful, elegant, and thoroughly masculine room.

_The bed is sooo soft. I could just lie here forever. Wait a minute…is there someone in here with me?_ She realized then that she was entwined around a very male form. Her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her arm flung over his chest…her hand resting on his heart, and one thigh wrapped around both of his as if to chain him to the bed and never let him up.

_Oh my god, I have to move…what if he wakes up and finds me wrapped around him like kudzu? _Nervously, she began to lift up her leg in preparation to move it. She squeaked when his hand snaked out and grabbed it, pulling inexorably down until it rested once again over his own again.

"I liked you just fine right there, my sweet." He murmured into her hair. The sensations he caused in her as he slowly ran his hand up and down the side of her leg resulted in a delicate shiver that went straight to his groin. He murmured something that sounded odd, then tipped her chin and took her mouth in a long slow kiss. Her moan of approval took his blood from simmer to sizzle in seconds. He tortured them both with slow passes of tongue and teeth over the tender flesh of her throat, feeling the pulse kick a little as his hands glided under her sleep shirt. He opened his eyes to look into hers, heavy-lidded now with passion and good old-fashioned lust.

A sigh here, a whisper there, his name a reverent prayer on her lips.

With shaking hands he strove to keep his passion banked tightly controlled, knowing the consequences of unleashing it to her unexpectedly. God in heaven, he'd _**never**_ forgive himself if she ever looked at _him_ with such fear in her eyes… He touched her as though she were made of fine porcelain, worthy of the utmost care and respect.

His hands delved into her panties and touched her soft folds with a light and deft contact, igniting every nerve ending she had. Pulling away, he abruptly grasped her t-shirt and panties and quickly divested her of them, leaving her breathless and nude among the sheets.

"_Sara…_my god…" his tone was one of awe.

Leaning down he took a breast into his mouth and paid homage to it. She arched her back, crying out in bliss at the sensations pouring through her system. Trailing a hand back to her core he again began to manipulate a response of wonder and awe. Abandoning herself completely to her senses she opened fully to him, trusting completely. Humbled, he did only what he could…he loved her with all he had.

* * *

Voice hoarse from her cry of completion, not once but three times, she lay boneless and sated curled against his side. "Damien…you didn't…I mean you never…"

He brushed a tender kiss against her forehead and pulled her tighter into his embrace. "It's not about me, love. It's about you…and replacing old memories with new ones. I cannot fully make you mine as long as you belong to someone else…" He could feel her subtle withdrawal and surmised what she was feeling. "No, sweetheart. You have done nothing wrong here. _He_ is the one who has done wrong…and _he_ alone will pay the price for injuring what is mine. I will make you mine when the time is right."

He brushed the hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips in dedication. "This I vow to you, you shall be mine for eternity if you so wish."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes at these words. "Damien…" she leaned forward and kissed him with all the passion she had.


	9. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

"I found her, boss." The large black man was one of Victor's most trusted men.

"Talk to me, Hugo." Vic's eyes took on a predatory gleam.

"It took some doing, but we traced her as far as New York where she and that FBI guy Nick Gage hopped a flight to London. We believe that's where she is." Hugo gave Vince the grainy surveillance photos they'd gotten illegally from airport security.

"What makes you think they are still in London?" the question sounded innocuous enough, spoken in Vic's quiet, unassuming tone. However, Hugo knew that he'd better have a convincing answer or wrath of a vicious nature would befall him.

"There have been neither reports nor sightings of her at airports or train/bus terminals in the country. I have my men at all checkpoints monitoring the situation. I feel confident in saying she remains within the city limits." His tone was slightly less certain then he wanted to portray.

Victor stared long and hard at him, trying to gain a sense of the truth behind his conviction. "Alright, let's go then." The other man gave an imperceptible sigh of relief as he prepared to walk out of the office. His boss put a deceptively mild hand on his arm, effectively halting his stride. "If I find that you've lied to me…" he left the rest of the sentence unspoken, but words were unnecessary.

His employee knew the drill well, having done most of the dirty work on other not-so-fortunate members of staff himself. He nodded, then left to begin preparations…and pray.

* * *

A preemptory knock had the older man growling "Enter" in a _better not mess with me _tone. A strikingly pretty young woman entered, her ice blue eyes an extraordinary contrast to the duskiness of her skin and the deep ebony of her long fall of hair. She swayed her hips enticingly as she sauntered toward her boss…_damn she is sooo fuckable…_

"Hi handsome…miss me?" her voice was pure sex, low and husky with undertones of whiskey and moonlight. He felt himself harden at the mere sound.

"That depends…did you get the information I sent you to get?"

She'd reached his desk and perched herself on top, affording him a glimpse of paradise before crossing impossibly long legs in tiny stiletto heels. _God…she's completely naked under there…_he began to breathe a little heavier, his heart rate double time now.

"Now, sugar…when have I ever let you down?" she gave him a feline smile and slid off one shoe, taking the stocking foot and rubbing him lightly, grinning when she felt him swell impressively. "Mmmm…like that do you?"

Swift as a snake, Vic grabbed the girl's foot and squeezed so hard she yelped. "You haven't answered my question." His voice was dangerous, and her heart beat speeded up. She tore her limb from his grasp, pouting.

"Yes…" she spat. "I got your precious information, you bastard!" she flung a file folder at him and the papers scattered on the floor. She picked up her shoe and stalked to the door. His hand was there first, yanking her around and she found herself thrust against the wall, his lips on hers with a bruising force. She responded in kind, animalistic noises coming from both of them. Brutally grabbing her hair and yanking her head back, he used his teeth to scrape down her neck while she groaned and clawed his back with her long nails. In no time they were naked and rutting on the floor like dogs in heat, him behind her; impaled to the hilt, teeth drawn back in a fierce snarl as he pulled and pounded into her showing no mercy. She came with a violent rush, screaming and pounding the floor, thrusting her hips up to meet his heavy driving force. He came soon after, the rush of pure physical pleasure erasing all thought from his mind accept _F-u-c-k!!! _

Collapsing beside her, he managed to pat her on the ass and say "Good girl, now…where's my info.?"

Gasping for breath she looked up at him through a curtain of mussed hair. "Go fuck yourself." The comment was spoken without heat, and half-heartedly.

Victor's smile was positively crocodilian. "Darlin' I already did. Or did you think I was really doin' **you**?"

"Why you son of a…" her arm was up and swinging. Casually he deflected the blow.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…unless you have a death sentence." He took her hand and began twisting until genuine tears of anguish began to leak from her eyes. "Now…about that information."

She began to talk.

* * *

Sara couldn't remember a time she'd ever felt so happy…or…free. Such a small word to have such a great impact. _**Freedom**_. Countries kill for it, soldiers die for it, and she was willing to sacrifice her very soul to keep it. Throughout the following weeks, Damien was attentive, passionate and generous…in short, everything a woman could want in a man. She was blissfully content. They went for long walks and talked, to the theatre, or just stayed home…in bed…and drove each other wild with longing. It wasn't enough, not near enough to just touch…she ached to be one with him, to be joined at last; not to know where his body ended and hers began, until they were breathless with completion.

Lying in his arms each night was both a comfort and an agony. To be so close to him and not able to make love was so…unexpectedly hard. After the experiences she'd had with Vince, she'd not desired the company…let alone the touch of another man. In her mind all men were lumped in with Victor. Man + Woman = Hitting/Pain

But right away she could tell he was different, it had been in his eyes. There had been a sadness there, as though he knew the kind of pain she knew…as though there were a time when he too had felt the sting of someone's anger. There was also a peace about him like the one who had doled out punishment had also been the one to hand out forgiveness as well.

He fascinated her, and thrilled her. She relaxed into the routine of life among friends who cared and a man who loved her, never realizing that her world was about to come crashing down around her.

* * *

Victor decided to go out for dinner that evening. It was unfortunate that his lovely young 'lady friend' wouldn't be joining him as she was currently nursing a severely bruised wrist and broken fingers. He grinned to himself, _always thinks she can control me using sex…she doesn't get it that she's the one who gets manipulated!_

He made his way into the crowded entry of _**Meena's **_and glanced around, trying to spot this mystery woman that reminded the girl of his wife. He moved toward the hostess stand then stopped…and stood frozen. "Sarahbeth…" he whispered when he saw her. Tears unexpectedly filled his eyes and he angrily wiped them away. _She walked out on_ _you…remember that_… Yet there she was…talking _**and flirting **_with…riff raff. Common folk. Making a complete spectacle of herself.

Anger boiled within him. Boiled and bubbled until he was all but consumed by it. Then, he saw it…a handsome dark haired man came up and placed a hand on _**his**__ wife's _back and led her away. Vic followed them up the stairs to a private hallway. Peering around the corner, he was just in time to watch the couple embrace and share an impassioned, carnal kiss. He squeezed his fists together until they ached with the force of it, his face red with rage before turning abruptly and leaving.

* * *

In Damien's arms, Sara suddenly got a chill and shivered. "What is it, my love?" he gazed at her in concern.

"I don't know…I just felt as though someone walked over my grave…silly I guess." She smiled back up at him and kissed him again.

Damien frowned and looked around the hallway. He didn't like the sensations he was getting at that moment. Was someone trying to tell him something?


	10. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

_Moonlight shone through the tall, majestic windows flanking the ballroom and a beautiful waltz floated on the balmy breeze that flowed in from the open French doors. She swayed dreamily to the beat of the music, the filmy fabric of her gown teasing her legs as she moved, silken hair flowing free over smooth skinned shoulders, and light perfume teasing the senses as it wafted around her like a fragrant cloud. He watched from the shadows, lusting after her brightness…her innocence…her love. _

_On predatory feet he moved, silently, like a great cat stalking its prey. Her next turn brought her up against his firm body and she squealed in fright. "Oh, you frightened me, My Lord! Was there something you wished…?" _

"_I wish, my lovely one…to dance with you." He swung her up in his arms and began the dance. At first it was beautiful, she felt as though she were floating on air in his arms…twirling around and around and around…and around….and around..._

_The surrounding room began to take on a surreal tone, the music turned from lovely to Machiavellian in a heartbeat. She begged him to slow down, to stop. He gazed down at her and began to laugh…a high, terrifying laugh that sounded like something out of hell. His eyes glowed an unearthly red and, as she watched, his canine teeth grew to razor sharp points._

"_Oh my God!" she gasped with a ragged breath._

_Smiling hugely, he whispered in her ear, "There is no god…"_

_

* * *

  
_

She was shaking and crying when Damien woke her from the nightmare. "My darling, I'm here…it's alright. I've got you…shhh, be still my love, you'll make yourself ill."

He held her close until she stopped weeping, smoothing her damp hair back from her face and leaning in to kiss her only to have her shy away from him in fear. Shocked, he pulled away and asked "Sweet one, what is the matter? Have I hurt you in some way? Please, tell me so I may make amends immediately…"

She saw the naked pain on his face and couldn't stand to be the cause of it, so she reached a tentative hand up and stroked his cheek. "No, Damien…it was a dream…horrible…" she shuddered and cuddled close to him, wrapping her arms around his muscled torso and holding on tight.

"Tell me." His quiet words gave her the strength to continue. In a halting voice she relayed the particulars of the nightmare, from the opening moments of the waltz to the bizarre ending. As he listened his heart began to sink. _The truth shall set you free…but what if I don't want to be free from her? _Deep in his ancient heart he knew it was time she was told his story.

* * *

The next morning, he begged a conference with Mary and drew her into his flat to ask her advice on how to best approach the subject with Sara. Was it appropriate to say to one's lover…oh, by the way, I forgot to mention one little, tiny, insignificant detail…I used to be a vampire. Er…not just any vampire, mind you…the Lord of Darkness in the flesh…Vlad the Impaler, Dracula, Satan personified, Evil One, the Count on Sesame Street…hell, just pick a name.

"Mary, I love her. If I lost her now it would be like enduring all the torments of the damned…all over again." his voice shook with raw emotion as he clung to his friend's hand tightly.

She gazed at him, amazed at the complete transformation of the man seated beside her. Once he'd been an unholy predator seeking only power and hungry for the blood of innocents, obsessed with revenge against God Himself, roaming this earth as an abomination; a man who was dead, but not dead…living, yet not alive…one who walked the earth in search of purpose and meaning in a purposeless existence.

It was in this condition she met him. And they saved each other.

"Let me talk to her first, Damien. Let me tell her my story." She reached up to gently cup his cheek in her small hand. "I've seen the love in her eyes, it is strong for you, sweetie. Just believe in it…believe in _her_ Damien."

"Alright." He smiled at her, "I'll try…but good things have been few and far between in my lifetime, I just don't want to lose the one thing that makes life worth living."

* * *

Vic had found the young runaway soon after leaving _**Meena's, **_easily picking her up in the flashy sports car. He smiled down into her bloody, terrified face as he brandished a new tool…her eyes widened as she beheld the industrial grade drill, and her screams echoed throughout the abandoned warehouse when he applied it with unholy glee to her right eye.

"Where's the boss? I need to ask him something. Hey, you…numbnuts! I asked a question…where…is…the…boss?" The newest recruit (a.k.a. the latest blackmail victim Victor forced into servitude) still had a lot to learn about the pecking order in the organization. Hugo decided to let Vic take the piss and vinegar out of this asshole.

"Downstairs, Ted. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to take care of you. Why don't you go down right now and talk to him?"

Ted smiled…_you just signed over your job asshole. If I play this right, soon I'll be Victor's number one man, and then I'll be the one getting all the chicks and the perks. _He made his way down the basement stairs and navigated the long hallways…until he heard what he thought was an animal whimpering. Coming around the corner, he spotted a light coming from the doorway to a utility room. Hurrying forward he reached the door only to be stopped short by the horrifying sight he beheld. Victor was standing by a table on which lay…_dear god, what was it?_ The thing had been human once, now it was a faceless bloody mass. Skin lay in pieces on the floor, exposing muscle and underlying tissue. The face…God in Heaven…the face was missing. Her…his eyes looked as though they'd been gouged out messily, bits of tissue and blood vessels left behind. The lips torn from their place with the ferocity of a wild animal. The worst part was that the pitiful creature was _**still alive. **_Feeble moans still reverberated through a tortured mouth, death was close and yet not close enough.

And through it all, Victor strolled…humming, looking for all the world like a benevolent deity. Ted finally realized in that one brief moment, what the face of evil looked like. Over the next several hours, he would realize just what tortures that evil could inflict.

* * *

"Hugo, there are two…'obstacles' in the basement. Take care of them." Victor looked much more relaxed that morning. Hugo knew his boss had gotten little to no sleep, but whenever he had new playthings…well, it always put him in a better mood.

Hugo cleared his throat before replying, "The usual dump site, boss?"

Vic pinned him with an intense stare. "Of course, is there a reason we shouldn't?"

"No, boss…not that I can think of." _Not unless you count on being caught, you idiot. This isn't America stupid! You can't pick up random women in a flashy car in a Podunk village that's solidly lower middle class…you get noticed._ He had a bad feeling about this whole affair and decided to begin the process of covertly distancing himself from the crime lord. Obediently he headed to the basement with his most trusted man to 'take care' of the problem. As he was doing so, he took pictures of the unfortunate girl and the fool Ted, using his cell phone, uploading them to a personal file in his own laptop.

* * *

Sara sipped her iced tea as she waited for the other woman to get to the point of this little pow wow. Her patient stillness paid off, and the other woman broke the silence at last. "You're probably wondering what all the fuss is about." At the other girl's nod, she continued. "Damien came to me for some advice…on how to tell you about his, well…rather checkered past. He wasn't always the upstanding, kind and sensitive man he is today. He was, shall we say, a bit of a prat. I'll tell you my story now, if you're willing to give me an hour or more," this earned a smile from Sara, "and you must promise me to keep an open mind…no matter what you hear, I want you to keep the picture of Damien, as he is _**right now**_ in your mind and heart as you listen. I will sound crazy at times, but I assure you…what I am about to relate is the god's honest truth. I have no ulterior motive to lie to you."

Sara listened wide-eyed and astonished. Okay, she was hooked, with line and sinker. There was no turning back now, she'd never be able to rest again in her blissful ignorance…not when she knew there was such a mysterious truth to be known. "I can make no promises, but I assure you I love him with all I have in me...I would not be true to him if I failed to love him for his faults as well as his virtues."

Mary sat amazed at the simplicity and depth of the emotion this woman held for her friend. "Sara, you humble me. You are an incredibly giving woman, and we are blessed to call you friend." She clasped the younger girls hand in both of hers and began her tale of terror, suspense, and finally freedom. When she finished the plates had been removed, food barely touched, and an uneasy silence had fallen between them. "Sara…honey? Are you okay?"

She could only manage a raw whisper. "You're saying he was a…vampire? _**The **_Count Dracula that movies are made about?"

Mary winced. "Not exactly. He was once Judas Iscariot, the disciple who betrayed Christ. He sold out the one who was God's Son for profit, yet gained nothing in the end except a half-life of torment and servitude to Lucifer himself. For centuries he'd been forced into mindless debauchery and the slaughter of innocents all for the pleasure of the Evil One. When he released me from bondage to him, he finally repented of his pride and greed…and asked for forgiveness, believing none would be granted. To our mutual surprise the rope broke and he _**floated**_ down, as though invisible hands cradled him. When he awoke from his stupor, he was a changed man."

Silent tears coursed down Sara's face as she listened to this part of the story. She could almost feel the loneliness he must have suffered…he looked so hard for a mate every century, and could never keep her. Wiping her eyes with the napkin, she smiled tremulously and thanked her friend for the talk.

"Mary, you are a great friend to both of us. I'm glad he's had you and Simon to be there for him. I'm ready to talk to him about this…I think I'm prepared for the most part…hopefully he doesn't have anything to horrible to share." Her smile grew wider with the last statement, but truth lay palpably behind her words.

* * *

Damien paced the living room of his flat. "Can you please sit down, mate? You're giving me a bloody headache!" Simon was kicked back on the couch flipping through the channels trying to decide which of the games to watch. "Mary has her well in hand, no worries okay?"

"What is taking so long? Surely they would've finished eating by now…perhaps she wanted to leave right away and Mary has had to drive her to the airport…" Damien's voice grew ragged.

"Bleedin' Christ, man!! Pull yourself together! That girl loves you…body, mind and soul. She has a lot to deal with right now, and this is just one more on the pile…so cut her some fucking slack!"

Strangely enough it was the whip like sharpness of his tone that calmed Damien's fears. He was correct in his statements, she **was **dealing with a lot right now, and he'd only added one more thing to the pile. Deflated, he sat next to Simon on the couch and tried to enjoy the cricket match.

* * *

That evening, after an early dinner, Damien asked Sara if she were willing to listen to his story. "There are some things about my past that I feel it necessary you know before our relationship progresses any further." At her murmur of agreement, he proceeded with his tale.

If she thought Mary's story bizarre, it didn't hold a candle to Damien's. She'd have called the cops immediately if she had any suspicion at all that they were mad. He talked of an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ Himself, of the jealousy he had of John…the one whom Jesus loved as a brother. He spoke of the comradery between the men closest to the Christ, as well as the competition, and the temptation of selling him out when his poor choices got in the way of sound judgment and faith.

His pain radiated from sorrow-filled eyes as he related the years of depravity living as the undead. The stolen blood of the innocent and the weak weighed on him like a millstone tied around his neck. When he'd finished he hung his head in shame, hands dangling between his long legs…the very picture of defeat. She got up and walked…only to kneel in front of him and request in a quiet voice that he look at her. "Please, love…"

He looked up in astonishment at her words. "How can you call me thus?? After all I have done…all that I was…How can you?"

"If our Father in Heaven can forgive you…how can I do anything less? You are not the same man you were back then!" she squirmed her way between his thighs and laid her hand on his smooth shaven cheek. "I love **you**, Damien Judas Iscariot, all of you. You are an enigmatic, exciting, dangerous, erotic, gentle, loving man…and I look forward to spending whatever time you will grant me basking in your presence."

He had tears coursing unashamedly down his cheeks at her words. "How about the rest of our lives?" Her eyes widened with surprise as he pulled a black velvet box from his jacket pocket and opened it. A lovely, delicate opal glowed up at her, pink and turquoise veins providing delicate color to its shell like translucence. Small diamonds twinkled on either side of the lovely stone, all set in a white gold antique ring.

"Oh…my…god…" she could scarcely breathe. "Damien, it's…spectacular… I don't know what to say."

"Well, the word YES comes to mind." He said chuckling softly.

She gave a watery giggle. Then launched herself into his arms, "Yes, yes…YES!!!!" She was laughing and crying all at one time. They embraced passionately, locked in ecstasy for long moments. "Wait…wait. No, Damien…stop…please, stop…" she pushed at his chest until he surfaced long enough to see that she meant it.

"What is it, Sweet heart?" his eyes were still on her lips.

"I'm still married, Damien. I can't think about marrying you when he…" her voice quavered.

"It's alright, love." He pulled her close. "We will tell Nicholas to start divorce procedures. It is time you got your life back."

"But Damien, he'll find me…my god, you don't know what he's capable of…" her fear was conspicuous and he rushed to persuade her.

"He doesn't know what I'm capable of either," his eyes flashed dangerously. "Especially when the woman who is my world is threatened."

And that was that, with a simple statement she melted. Grasping his face with her small hands she attacked his mouth feverishly, taking the kiss immediately into the red hot zone. Surprise had him freezing, but only for a moment before his hands tangled themselves in her hair and he opened his mouth to give her greater access, relishing her hum of pleasure as she plundered his mouth like a practiced courtesan. He sank back on the couch and let her have control, although it was the hardest thing he ever did in his life. As he had sensed from the beginning, a hidden core lay within her of molten sensuality, one that when released would burn with the greatest of passion. Oh, how he thanked God that he was the fortunate man to release such a precious gift in this unique and lovely woman.

It took a moment before he discovered she was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from the waistband of his trousers. With fingers trembling with both need and trepidation she popped open the button enclosure and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection from its confines. "Sara, sweetheart…what…?" was all he was able to grind out through a throat that suddenly constricted when her lips ghosted over his exposed pectorals and her tiny hand fisted around him, pumping lightly. He could feel his eyes roll back as his head suddenly felt too heavy for his neck and he let it fall back against the sofa cushions in silent surrender.

Sara felt the subtle power shift and a feeling of giddiness swept through her. His skin was soft with a pleasing texture that teased her lips and his scent was…intoxicating. She spent time outlining each muscle that bulged with his need to hold her…wrest control and take her hard and fast there and then…but she _knew_ beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would control those impulses, and in that knowing…rejoiced. She traced his chest using tongue and teeth to where it dived into the crevasse of the juncture between his straining thighs. Softly, she stroked the exposed head wresting a muffled curse from between clenched teeth and she smiled tenderly up into a face that was pulled into stark relief by the force of his desire. Opening her small kittenish mouth, she lapped once, taking in a small amount of lubrication that had formed on top of the tip, eliciting a harshly guttural moan and strong thrust of his hips.

"_**Sara…god…"**_

Her smile was positively feline. Her eyes sparkled up at him, and she gave him one soft, gentle warning… "It's _your_ turn now baby…" before diving in and swallowing him whole.

He just about came off of the couch in shocked pleasure. His hips rocketed up and down as he held her head tight and she fucked him with her mouth like there was no tomorrow. She used teeth and tongue to drive him completely wild, sweeping the underside of his rod, stimulating every nerve ending she came across. His hands fisted in her hair, he held her in place and moaned his approval, chanting her name through clenched teeth. Feeling the tightening of his sacs and the tingling of his groin that heralded the onset of a powerful orgasm…he tried to pull her away from his crotch.

"Sara…stop, please…I'm going to…come…" he groaned.

She released him long enough to smile a blinding smile and said "Feel free my love…" before resuming her incredible activities. Oh well, when in Rome…Damien lay back, let go…and reached heaven in his lady's capable hands.


	11. Chapter 10

_***Please forgive the lateness in updates, I am experiences difficulties with my router and my internet signal is spotty at best. Sometimes it takes several days to upload a single chapter! The doctor says that my concussion will get better just as soon as I stop beating my head against the proverbial brick wall…LOL**_

_**Thanks for Reading!!!**_

_**Chapter 10**_

Damien awoke to the sweetly mournful coo of the morning dove outside his open bedroom window. Pushing aside the blonde locks that were tickling his nose, he grinned down at the naked woman draped across him like a virgin sacrifice. Sara was spread bonelessly over his torso, one arm wrapped possessively around his chest and one creamy thigh raised high over his in a warm embrace that brought her center perilously close to his morning erection. Shifting slightly, so as to not awaken his sleeping beauty, he tucked his fingers beneath her out spread thighs and skimmed her mound gently…closing his eyes against the rush of pleasure that swamped his system. She shifted her legs slightly, moaning contentedly in her slumber and opening her legs to offer more of her sweetness. He kissed her soft hair and continued his caressing assault, wanting her to awaken violently aroused and ready for him. Slipping a finger inside her damp passage he quickly found the spot that would have her there in no time. Rubbing tiny circles around the creamy, soft flesh he relished the moans and soft cries emanating from the woman writhing in his arms.

Tilting her head up, he kissed her full on the lips…touching his tongue to them and urging her to open for his plunder. Watching her eyes at last open…dark with desire and lust…was his undoing. Groaning, he pulled her onto his chest and slipped inside, ghosting his hands down her back, causing goose bumps to rise and a lovely quiver to shake her. She promptly sat up forcing him in all the way, until he was seated at last against her womb. Shuddering, drunk with sensation, she held him there…head thrown back and arms raised with hands fisted in her hair; before meeting his eyes, grabbing onto his shoulders, and giving him the ride of his life.

After a release of cataclysmic proportions, they collapsed against one another…sweaty and exhausted. "Good morning, my love…" he choked out through heaving breaths.

She burst into giggles. His heart lifted at the sound. "If you start every day that way we'll have a smile every morning of the rest of our lives." Rolling back over she kissed him again. "Good morning, handsome. I love you."

"And I you." She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"What shall we do today? Is there any restaurant business to attend to?"

"None that cannot be postponed. Why, is there somewhere in particular you wished to go?" he rolled to his side to look into her sweet face.

"I've always wanted to see the sights London has to offer. Big Ben, The Tower of London, even the Wax museum! I just didn't think anyone would be interested in going to see…" she got up and grabbed a towel, heading for the bathroom.

He stopped her and put a finger on her lips saying "Hush, love. I would be most happy to accompany you on your quest. In fact, we can make a day of it…or two days… Yes, that would be better. I can show you all those things and more…tell me, would you like to see the Ripper sites?" He followed her into the shower. After a steamy and mutually satisfying experience..._was there any other kind with him?_...they began to dress for the day ahead.

"Yes, I always wondered who he was…" she saw the look on his face. "Wait a minute, do you know who it was?"

"Yes, I had followed him numerous times, and had taken advantage of the prostitutes he'd abandoned as unworthy of his 'art'."

"Who was he, come on…you have to tell me!" she was all but hopping up and down with excitement.

"You have an author in this generation that figured him out…Patricia…" he stopped to think. "Corniss…no, Cornwell…yes that is her name. She wrote ***Portrait of a Killer** in which she closed the case of Jack the Ripper through forensic evidence. Well, she was correct…the man she focused on, artist Walter Sickert, was indeed Jack the Ripper."

Sara was fascinated. "You have to tell me all about it…" Their voices faded as they made their way down to breakfast.

* * *

Victor made plans. He loved making plans. And if those plans meant pain for the party involved well then…it was icing on the cake. A mirthless smile parted his hard lips as he drew the knife across the breasts of the 18 yr. old prostitute he'd picked up just a scant hour before. Her shrill shriek of pain was a balm to his tortured soul. Watching the blood ooze down her chest was erotic, he could feel himself getting hard and the front of his loose pants tented ominously. Bending slightly he licked the line of bodily fluid and sweat soaked fear from her torso, feeling the rush that came from achieving a god-like status. He gave life, and he took life away…hell, he _**was **_fucking god. The girl's stamina was quickly waning, she'd lost so much blood already. He glanced up into her glazed eyes and recognized the fact that she was gone already…she'd retreated into that no-man's land that they all went to when the torture was too much and their mind just snapped. Sighing, he realized that she was not going to come back, so he calmly yanked her head back by her hair…and slit her throat.

Vic and Hugo finalized their plans that evening over dinner. "Nothing must go wrong, Hugo. Is that clear? I will not tolerate a delay. I must have her by tonight, willing or unwilling, I care not. She will not get away with making me the laughing stock of the family."

* * *

Mary walked around the boutique, captivated by all of the tiny infant clothing she saw. A girl, she and Simon were having a baby girl! Ecstatic, she hugged this information to herself. Simon got stuck at the restaurant at the last minute with pressing business, and neither one wanted to interfere with Damien and Sara…they both saw the extraordinary change in the girl since she'd arrived. In just a few short weeks she'd gone from painfully shy and scared of her own shadow, to a vibrant and glowing woman whose love shone bright and glorious. Mary had her ultrasound appointment alone, and chose to be enlightened about the sex of the baby…she was so glad she did! Now, wandering aimlessly through the specialty shop, she looked closely at the infant girl section and dreamed of her daughter.

Picking up a beautiful maroon Christmas dress with lace trimming, she didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. A brutal hand cupped her mouth and nose, pulling her back against a chest filled with rock hard muscles. Struggling wildly, she pulled ineffectually at his arm, breathing deeply and smelling a strange sickly sweet odor. "Chloroform…" she thought, before the darkness closed in completely.

She felt a sting as someone slapped her lightly on the cheek. "Wake up, princess. Wakey, wakey." A voice sing-songed in a strange manor, reminiscent of a child. Groaning from the headache, she blinked several times to try to bring the room into focus. A sharper slap when she gave up and started the easy slide back into slumbering bliss.

"Ouch, stop that!" her tone was petulant.

"Only when you wake up, bitch." That had her eyes open at last. _Whose voice was that? Where am I? What the Hell happened? _

She realized two things almost immediately. One: this man was no friend and Two: she was naked, and tied to a bloody table and there were surgical tools and other implements next to her…

"Oh…my…god…" she turned to face the man standing next to her. It was hard to believe him a monster. He was trim, fit and had glorious blonde locks that fell artfully over a handsome chiseled face. "You're him…"

He smiled a reptilian grin. "Victor Soriano at your service ma'am." His eyes swept over her nakedness with abandon and she blushed in shame. _Oh god, Simon…help me. Please, Lord…don't let him hurt my baby…please._

"I see congratulations are in order for you and your husband…" his big beefy hand caressed her rounded abdomen. She quivered at his touch, revolted beyond belief. "I know you wouldn't want anything to…go wrong…would you?" At her vigorous shake of the head he smiled triumphantly and patted her on the head as he would a child who was eager to please. "Fine…fine. I had my suspicions that you would be easily persuaded. Now, to the task at hand…" Here he held up her cell phone and showed her Sara's number on speed dial. "When I dial, and she answers, you will talk to her and tell her to meet you in your apartment. You can think of an urgent reason…but I will be right here, listening. If you so much as hint about me, I swear before God Himself that I will cut that baby out of you and let you watch me destroy it…_do you understand me?"_ Eyes wide and terrified, she nodded.

* * *

_*** Portrait of a Killer: Jack the Ripper case Closed, **Patricia Cornwell_

_ G.P. Putnam's Sons: New York, Copyright 2002 by Cornwell Enterprises, Inc._


	12. Chapter 11

***One more chapter to go!! I hope you all have enjoyed this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I'll be sad to see it end, but it goes out with a BANG!! :D**

Chapter 11

Sara and Damien strode along the Thames after having tea in a quaint little tea shop around the corner of the restaurant. It was a pleasant, sunny day…a warm breeze blowing her hair back and bringing with it the tangy smell of the river and the mouth-watering smell of the various foods being cooked in the restaurants occupying the area. They window shopped, and occasionally stopped to peruse the merchandise of little kiosks along the lane.

They were having a wonderful time when her cell phone rang.

"Oh…" she turned and rustled through her bag trying to find it. "I hope nothing is wrong…it's Mary…Hello?" she said into the mouthpiece. "Mary, calm down…what's wrong…you're scaring me…yes, of course I…your flat? Okay, sure…right now? I'll bring Damien…alone? Why? Alright…calm yourself…this can't be good for the baby…okay, alright we're on our way." She hung up and turned to Damien.

"We need to go back, there's something wrong…Mary…" she got no further when he grasped her hand and said…

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do…you…trust me?"

"Yes…whoooaaa!!!" she shrieked as he picked her up and they literally flew back to to _**Meena's. **_Landing softly on the balcony outside his flat, he gently put her on her feet and opened the French doors, ushering her inside.

"Oh…Damien…my god…" she ran a shaky hand through her tousled hair and tried to catch her breath. "When you asked if I trusted you…I thought it was…a…rhetorical…question." Her gasping soon gave way to bubbling laughter. "You really know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Iscariot."

He grinned, unrepentant. "Now you can tell your friends that I swept you off your feet…" that comment earned him a swat on the arm.

She turned suddenly serious, "Mary…"

"Go…if you need me…"

"I know what to do."

She left him in the living room of his flat.

* * *

Vic waited patiently in the stylish living room of the apartment on the top floor of the Restaurant living quarters. Like a spider in anticipation of a long awaited meal, he could afford patience, and wore it with aplomb. The quiet darkness suited him and he sat in comfortable silence until…at last…her small, fragile footfalls were heard.

The door was unlocked…unlatched…open. She, pitiful creature that she was, opened the door and called out, "Mary…Mary, are you in there? Honey, are you alright? Mary?"

_Come on…come in, bitch. Get in here you cock-sucking cunt. Whore. Rutting Fuck Whore. Come to papa. Come on…cooommme onnnn._

Sara saw the open door and frowned. It didn't occur at first to feel fear, only select persons who were granted access to their private floor could enter it.

"Mary…are you alright? Mary…?" she opened the door wider and cautiously entered the darkened interior of the flat. "Mary…honey, are you in here?" Straining to hear, she nearly missed the breath of air behind her that had her whirling about…too late. Pain lanced through her head, and her vision blurred, but not before she sent out a frantic call to Damien.

* * *

She struggled toward consciousness. What happened? One moment she was opening the door to the flat, the next awakening with a thundering headache throbbing behind her eyes. Slowly she tried to open her eyelids. The light stabbed into her skull causing her to hiss out a curse.

"So, you are awake at last my darling."

Oh dear god, that voice. She thought she had left it behind when she entered the Witness Protection Program eighteen months ago.

"V-V-Victor? Oh, god no…" she whispered.

He leaned in close, so close that she could feel his rancid breath on her cheek. "Oh, yes my dearest wife. It is your faithful husband, the one you betrayed. I've come to repay my debt to you. Come now, be a good girl and open your eyes. I know how much you wished to be reunited with your lover and friends."

She opened her eyes and saw…and couldn't stop screaming.

She was trussed up to a single post in the middle of a warehouse, abandoned by the looks of it. On a long, low table in front of her lay the nude body of Mary…arms and legs tied to spread them as far apart as possible. Her pregnant belly stretched taut over her trim mound and Victor ran his hands obscenely over her body with relish. Simon was tied next to his terrified wife, blood still running down his face from a scalp wound inflicted during his procurement for this little comedy. His head hung limply and he didn't show any signs of life, not even when Victor viciously pinched Mary's nipples causing her to cry out in pain.

"Look, my love, at how responsive she is…oh...I shall enjoy this…" his eyes burned with madness.

Sara turned away, not wanting to witness her friend…the only friend she'd ever really known…being tortured, and cried out in agony. A figure lay prone on the floor, white shirt soaked in crimson blood and dark hair flowing free from all restraint.

"Damien…no…" her voice was barely a whisper of agony, yet he heard her. Smiling he turned, ready to dole out more pain to the worthy.

"He was the most easy of all, my dear! All I had to do was let him follow me and pretend to let him find my 'lair'. Then I locked him in a cage and opened the blinds to let in the sun!! When he weakened, I shot him!"

He giggled…actually giggled, and Sara knew then just how far her ex-husband had slipped into madness. She cleared her throat, trying to work up enough saliva to actually make a sound when she talked.

"Victor…Victor." The second time around, his name came easier and louder. He turned, face thunderous. She had to force herself to continue. "You have me now, please…let them go. You can do what you want with me, but do the right thing and let them go." Earnestly she implored him, "Please, take me…and let them go."

"NO!" spittle flying, he thrust his face into hers. "You should've thought of that BEFORE you involved yourself in their lives, you cock-sucker! It's your fault they've ended up like this! YOUR fault!!!" with these words he threw back his arm and slapped her face. Ears ringing and eyes tearing from the punishing blow, she nodded.

"I know, Victor." She stated quietly, "you don't have to tell me what I already know."

* * *

He lay still and quiet, although it was increasingly hard to do so. After allowing himself to be 'caught' by the asshole, he finally admitted to himself that "making it up as you went along" probably wasn't the best plan. High on the list for reasons was the actual _pain_ he had to put up with now…which he'd found out actually hurts like a bitch…when that son of a bitch shot him. Like before, he'd healed nearly instantly, but then the son of a bitch didn't need to know this. When the bastard took him into the warehouse and laid him on the floor without tying him up, he felt it was a telling testament to his acting abilities. He lay and pretended unconsciousness, listening intently to what was going on around him. Rage engulfed him when he heard Mary's stifled sobs and Victor's undisguised gloating.

He just about lost it when she screamed, "NO…Simon!!!!!!!" nearly lifting his head and playing his hand too early. "What did you do to him? Simon…Simon!"

"Shut up." Victor struck her casually across the mouth, snapping her face to the side as easily as if she were a child. He knelt by the bleeding man. "Your stalwart husband gave me a few…problems. I doubt he'll ever wake up again. Pity…I should have liked to watch him break when he watches what I do to you…" Her sobs were achingly quiet and gut-wrenching.

"Fuck you…" she hissed. He grinned from his seated position, "Oh, you will love…you will…"

* * *

Sara watched him as he prepared his equipment. She knew from bitter experience that one thing Victor enjoyed was inflicting pain. He kept his instruments in peak condition, clean and well-oiled, ready for use at a moment's notice…after all, you never know when there may come a chance for a good torture session. Mary's eyes grew huge with each passing moment as she beheld each lovingly stroked instrument, each knife, each tool. Tears fell freely down each woman's face as they thought not about themselves, but about the innocent child that lay cradled inside her womb.

Sara knew that this was the moment she had dreaded for her entire life…the culmination of the personal hell she'd suffered since meeting Victor so many years ago. God, had she ever been so young and innocent? She welcomed death now, for with it came absolution…without her, he would have no further need for the hunt and…death. She accepted the fact that she had brought out the worst in him, and prayed that God would have mercy on Mary…

_Please…you have no reason to spare me, but use me to create a distraction and spare her life and that of her child…I give you my life to use in place of hers._

As she prayed she was frantically twisting her hands back and forth, loosening the nylon threads little by little. The heavy duty nylon rubbed deep cuts into her wrists that bled freely, the lubrication easing the way for her to slip out of her bonds with very little trouble. Keeping her arms behind her, she began to scoot imperceptivity toward the instrument table. She was going to try to get a knife or something…hopefully…

Her leg bumped the leg of the rolling cart and the tools rattled. Victor looked down and let out a snarl. "What the hell!" He reached down and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her up as she screamed in pain and rage.

Galvanized by the action, taking the chance offered by God…Damien struck. Lightning fast, animal reflexes still intact, he was on Vic before the startled man had a chance in Hades of defending himself. Sara looked over her attacker's shoulders to see an angel of mercy, eyes blazing with righteous fire, open a mouth gaping with razor sharp canine teeth and clamp down on the side of his neck…tearing Victor away from her. She fell then, blood loss and fear making her woozy, and without another sound fainted dead away.

* * *

She woke in the dead of night, the ambient sounds of the nighttime rounds of doctors and nurses the only accompaniment to the bleeps and blinks of the heart and blood pressure monitors she was hooked up to. Looking around, she panicked, not knowing where she was or who had brought her there. Scrambling around she found the cord that led her to the bedside nursed call button. Pressing frantically, she found she could barely speak when she heard the reassuring question come through.

"You finally awake, luv? I'll be down in a tic." A few moments later a short, slightly plump young woman in a nurses uniform bustled in. She had red bushy hair and a pretty dimpled smile.

"How ya feelin' luv? It's about time you graced us with your presence. Your fella gave us the hardest time about leavin' here to go and get some rest finally and what you go and do? Decide ta wake up ya did! Oh, he'll never let me hear the end o' this one…" She prattled on, friendly as can be as she tenderly did a thorough check-up of Sara's heavily bandaged wrists. She saw the questions in her patient's eyes. "Now, I know ya have all kinds o' answers ya be wantin'. And I've taken the liberty of having your handsome lover called…now, doncha go blushin' on me lassie! I've seen the way he looks at ye. I wasna' born yesterdae." A jolly laugh was in her voice and her kindly emerald eyes. "Ma point is, ya don't have ta know everything tonight. Don't be exhaustin' yourself." She patted Sara on the hand, and left promising to find her erstwhile lover.

"Oh…wait!" Sara cried, intending to enquire after Mary. Had she and the baby survived? What about Simon? But she was too late, the nurse was gone. Heaving a sigh, she sank back onto the pillows and thoughtfully examined her bandages.

After receiving the welcomed news, Damien rushed back to the hospital. Striding through the corridors, he had people hurriedly stepping out of his way, assuming he was a doctor on his way to an emergency. Reaching her room in record time he simply stopped and stared, struck anew by how very much she had come to mean to him in such a short amount of time. In all of his wanderings, in all of the centuries he had to endure…she was the anchor that tethered his soul. Spotting the bandaging, that encircled her tiny wrists, threatened to unleash anew the rage that bubbled still just under the surface. She must've felt his presence then, because she looked up…and spotting him, froze. This was it…the moment he'd both been dreading and hoping for. Would she run from him in fear, or accept him for who, and what, he was?

A luminescent smile spread across her angelic face, and she opened her arms. Letting out a pent up breath on what could only be described as a sob, he walked right into them.


	13. Epilogue

***I can't believe it's over!!! It was an interesting experiment to see if I could do a romantic suspense tale. I hope I have done it justice. Thanks to all of you who make it this far in the reading of this story...I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have.**

_**Epilogue: One year later**_

It was to be the wedding of the year. According to the press the great entrepreneur, Damien Iscariot, was marrying the lovely and gracious Sara Beth Wheeling, who had come over to Great Britain on holiday. After meeting the suave, charming and oh-so-handsome restaurateur, the beautiful young lady decided to make London her permanent home.

The small wedding would be performed in the small gardens behind _**Meena's **_, with an intimate reception in the restaurant afterward. The bride, nervously awaited her partner-in-crime before the ceremony.

"Did you get it?" Sara asked. She glanced around before opening the door wider and grasping Mary by the lapel, dragging her into the anteroom.

"I…eeeepppp…watch it! Of course I got it silly!" she said, laughing. "One Daisy Duke costume coming right up…or rather just cumming…" she waggled her eye brows suggestively.

"Stop it" Sara hissed, covering little eleven month old Cameron's ears. "It's ok, love…Mummy didn't mean it." She turned angrily to Mary. "Do you want him to learn how to cuss?"

"He will anyway, according to Simon, it's considered a rite of passage for any self respecting child." She grinned, unrepentantly…then relented. "Oh, Phoo…all right! Here, and here is the CD with the track number…you will blow his socks off tonight!"

The ceremony was lovely with a tearful Mary standing in as matron of honor; and a proud Simon, still bearing scars from Victor's attempt on his life, standing in as best man. The reception was beautiful and elegant…but all Damien wanted was his hands all over his wife. _Wife, what a glorious sound that word has…_

He reached out a hand to his new spouse and said gently "shall we, my love?" With shining eyes she placed her hand in his and rose to join him.

* * *

She gazed at herself in the mirror over the decadent marble double sink in the penthouse suite of the Cavendish London. Blue-jean short shorts hugged her taut thighs and hips like second skin. A cotton checked shirt was unbuttoned low enough to expose creamy flesh, and tied at the hemline above her naval. She had pulled her now considerably longer hair into two braided tails alongside her face, and brushed only a little blush on an otherwise au natural skin. Nervously, she fingered the CD and stared at her reflection. _Oh god…I don't think I can do this…_

A soft knock came at the door. "Sara? Are you alright, love? Having second thoughts?" Damien's amused affectionate tone was just what she needed to remember why she was doing this.

Chuckling, she replied "Not on your life, you're stuck with me mister…get used to it!"

"Come out, my sweet." His voice held a powerful conviction. "Let me show you how much joy that thought brings to me…"

She shivered at the note of suppressed longing and desire in his whisper. Swallowing thickly, she said "I…I'll be ri…right out. Wait on the bed for me…please…"

"Don't be long, my sweet…" _You bet…_

Slipping out of the bathroom, she remained out of sight of the king-sized bed, and set up the music portion of the evenings '_entertainment_'. Cueing up the right track, she pressed play and the beginning sounds of SHEdaisy's_ 360 Degrees of You_ pumped out. Stepping in view of her very confused, yet perversely fascinated husband, Sara began a tentative bump and grind.

_I wish you lived on the corner where I live  
So I could look at you all the day long  
Lickety lip got me flippin' my lid, yeah  
Nibblin' my thumb 'cause I want me some_

Getting into the mood now, she closed her eyes and just let the music and love she had for her husband give her the impetus for the moves she used to entice and seduce. Damien was speechless with shock and pleasure as he was treated to the best striptease he'd ever witnessed.

_And if you lived on the corner where I lived  
I'd hang around like an apple in a tree  
Borrow some bread, stick of butter, cup of milk  
And some sugar for me  
I'm cookin' something sweet_

Her sultry voice sang along with the lyrics as she slowly divested herself of her checked gingham blouse, giving him a shocked eyeful of generous breast. If he had known she wasn't wearing a bra… A few acrobatic moves later and he wasn't thinking at all…

_Lookin' once, lookin' twice  
Better get me a bucket of ice  
Go on do whatever you do  
I'll just sit here enjoyin' the view  
Whistlin' Dixie  
360 degrees of you - Oooo, Oooo_

She began touching herself, running her hands over her breasts while gyrating to the musical beat. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, and her face flushed with arousal, his nostrils flared as he caught her scent. _My mate, my love…mine. _She popped the button on her blue-jean shorts…opening her eyes, she stared into his with passionate intensity. Slowly she pulled down the zipper, letting her fingers graze the sensitive petals of her core. He watched her hand intently, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips…_god, she's killing me._

_I picture me twisted up in your t-shirt  
Pink lemonade and a squeaky porch swing  
Don't know your name, yet I guess it  
wouldn't hurt  
If you gave me a ring - a big diamond ring_

Peeling off her shorts, she turned in a slowly gyrating circle to reveal her red lace thong. He had to peel his tongue off the roof of his mouth. There was no way he could take anymore tonight…

She smiled over his shoulder, shaking her shapely derriere and tormenting the hell out of him.

_Lookin' once lookin' twice  
You're a splash of Tabasco on hot apple pie  
Baby, girls like it too  
Like to sit around enjoying the view  
Whistlin' Dixie, 360  
Whistlin' Dixe, 360 degrees of you,_

Pulling off her thong, she twirled it above her head as she pranced in her stiletto boots, nude. His mouth was dry, his skin hot and he could take no more. As soon as the music cut, and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response, he got off the bed and stalked toward her. He was panther-like in his gait and suddenly, unaccountably, she felt nervous. What if she'd just made a fool of herself?

"Damien, did you like i….?" she could get no more out for his mouth was on hers and his arms enclosed her in velvety steel traps. After pulling off those drop dead sexy boots, he lifted her against his heart and carried her to their bed. Placing her on the coverlet, he stood and quickly divested himself of his clothing, joining her on the duvet and pulling her body close.

"Damn woman, you nearly did me in" he growled low into her ear, making her shiver with the intensity of the longing in his tone. "I fucking _**loved **_every minute of it. And if you ever do that to me again I'll put you over my knee and paddle your adorable behind."

As he was now sensually stroking said behind, she didn't put much stock into the threat and merely smiled, before nibbling his neck with tiny love bites. He shuddered in response and pulled her soft body closer. "Lord, you're killing me…"

"You'll die a happy man" she purred as her hands got _very_ busy…his eyes flew open wide…and creative. He bit back a loud moan. "Let it out love" she said between bites and licks. "I like to hear what I do to you." Her head drifted lower, fragrant hair brushing over his body like fine silk as her mouth went on an erotic journey of his person. Ghosting her lips along his collar bone and down to his nipples, she discovered that he liked having them played with as much as she did. She loved the way he threw back his head and hissed, groaned and called her name in his pleasure.

Making her way along his firm abdomen, she stopped at his naval and made several forays into its mysterious depths with her tongue. Damien fisted his hands in the bed clothes and swore viciously, hips raising frantically. He felt as though he were dying…she was going so damned slow… At last…at last, she touched the pearly tip of him with a gentle finger, slowly spreading the juices until he was coated. Leaning forward, with an intense look of concentration, she looked at him, examined him from all sides, and then did something she'd never done before. She took him into her sweet mouth and showed him heaven.

Just before Damien found his release, he grabbed Sara and gently urged her onto her back. "Let me touch you, love." He lavished attention onto her breasts, nibbling and sucking until she was writhing beneath him and begging "Damien, dear god…please"

His fingers delved between her thighs and found her dripping and ready. "Sara, my darling…look at me. I must speak with you."

Panting with desire, she nevertheless opened her eyes and gazed up into his passionate stare. "I meant to talk to you about this, there is a way in which we can be closer…" here he pushed into her and they both stopped to moan in pleasure, and started gentle back and forth thrusts. "Even closer…_ah, yes pull your leg up like so…_than we are…_mmmm_…right…_god_…now…_Sara…" _

She closed her eyes in pleasure, and rolled her hips, feeling his length all the way inside, hitting just the right spot… Even closer…he was all the way inside of her already, didn't he know that? "How…_oh, god…ahhh_…?"

He told her.

She looked at him amazed. This could be done? He asked her then if she trusted him. She found that she didn't even have to think twice. The answer was a resounding YES. She looked up into his concerned, beloved face, and in lieu of spoken consent, simply kissed him with all the passion in her soul, and thrust her hips against his.

He growled a response and murmured his love against her lips. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Will it hurt?"

"I will do nothing to hurt you, my sweet one. I will bring only pleasure."

"Then I'm ready, I trust you, Damien.

She closed her eyes and felt his lips warm and soft on her throat. He murmured something in an ancient tongue and she felt her body respond with a quickening of her blood. Panting now, she offered her throat to him, asking him wordlessly to release her from her prison of unfulfilled desire. Eyes glowing, fangs released from their confines, he whispered heated love words in her ear as he laved the open area around her exposed jugular. Then, taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her trust and her arousal, he bit down gently…lovingly…and sealed her soul to his for all eternity.

Their minds met in a whirlwind of emotion, love and lust warring together for dominance. She could read his reactions to her every move, knew how much she affected him, and it was heady…awe-inspiring…erotic as hell. He gave her a picture of how she looked just then, legs spread wide in strained welcome, arms wrapped tightly around the bunching muscles of his back, face flushed with arousal, mouth soft and eyes glazed in mindless pleasure. The view from his eyes had her rocketing toward the edge, and with one last gentle push of his razor sharp canines he showed her what he was going to do to her when they were finished.

Arching her back, grasping his upper arms in a bruising grip, hips pumping her core around his straining erection, she came screaming his name…crying his name…tears of joy pouring down her face.

He felt every tremor of her climax, both on the outside, and from within as he was linked with her mind. Knowing his own pleasure was imminent, he carefully pulled away from her throat and closed the twin pricks with his tongue. Then he surrendered to the tide. Grasping her hips in both hands, he pistoned between her thighs, stopping only to reposition her so that he hit precisely the right spot within. He rubbed the bundle of nerves at the apex until she shuddered and cried out once more, before finally…finally falling with her.

* * *

Hours later, they lay finally replete. Sara picked up her head from Damien's shoulder and said "Oh…_yawn…_I forgot to give you your wedding present." Another ear-splitting yawn interrupted his answer and he grinned.

"I think, love, that you need your rest. You can give it to me tomorrow."

"No…no, it has to be to-_yawn-_night. I'll be right back." Amused, he lovingly watched as she walked naked and unself-conscious across the room and rummaged through her luggage. "Ah…here we go."

She brought over a piece of paper. He accepted it and then read. He looked up enquiringly. "Love, what is this…is Mary and Simon going to have another baby again?" She took the results of the blood test from him.

"No, Damien. You and I are." He stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"I don't underst…" a light dawned in his eyes as the truth became a wonderful reality.

"You're…pregnant? With our child?" his whisper was awed. She grinned and nodded.

"With your child, Damien…God has granted you children." She lifted a hand to brush a tear that streaked his face.

"Oh, my dear Lord…" he breathed as he crushed her to him and buried his face in her hair.

They cried together in sheer joy, and after, lay talking about the future and what it may bring.

**Fin**


End file.
